Southwest By Northwest

The smoked pork shoulder quesadilla at
Trigger—the Bunk Bar crew’s new Tex-Mex-ish joint underneath Wonder
Ballroom—is far from what one might expect from that classic modified
grilled-cheese sandwich. But it’s exactly what one would ask for from
chef Tommy Habetz: a full-flavored, playful updating of a low-rent
snack. With sumptuous hazelnut mole and chili crema, the dish blends
local ingredients and Mexican flavors to achieve a subtle richness more
at home in a savory crepe than in the brash, meaty world of Texas-style
Mexican food.

Two months after opening, not everything at Trigger is so good.

A
Tex-Mex place will always live and die by its fajitas, and it’s here
that Trigger’s faults and virtues show most clearly. The strips of
smoked hanger steak ($14) had beautiful charring and spice, the fresh
guacamole was exceptional and the sour-cream sauce was delicate and
citrus-y. But on a busy Saturday, the meat was served lukewarm and
closer to medium than medium rare; the tortillas and veggies were
likewise tepid.

In a
restaurant that embraces the unabashed kitsch of Tex-Mex, it’s a shame
to lose the joyous spectacle (not to mention utility) of fajitas served
sizzling on a platter.

Among
the tacos ($4), the terrific fish taco—even with a substitution from
rockfish to one seriously massive breaded shrimp—boasts welcome,
unexpected flavors in an old standby, bringing the bright tang of
pineapple and jalapeño slaw to bear on the shrimp’s earthy,
Southern-style breading.

The
breading was a bit burnt on our fried avocado taco, however, and the hot
dog-stuffed hard-shell taco was an unfortunate piece of whimsy. The
flavors and textures don’t blend at all: You bite into a taco only to
discover you are eating a hot dog instead. What a strange and awful
world.

Of
course, it is also rare that a casual, midpriced Tex-Mex bar would be
subjected to such scrutiny, and this is a sign of Portland’s breathless
expectations for Bunk-related fare. In its first weeks, Trigger also
received pointed online criticisms for not using housemade tortilla
chips; the restaurant responded, and the current chips are blessedly
fresh and airy.

The
margaritas—fresh or frozen—are fundamentally sound and appropriately
potent. The Side Pipe—not a Trigger innovation, but unfamiliar in these
parts—includes a mini-bottle of Corona perched upside down in the
20-ounce drink. The beer stays magically inside its bottle until the
margarita goes empty, at which point the beer takes its lime from the
drink’s froth as it empties into the chalice.

It
is an almost affecting piece of alcoholic camp, and an indicator of what
Trigger could become if it smooths out its inconsistencies: a cheerily
populist balancing act, imbued with lowbrow sport and no small amount of
wonder.